


you are in love

by transit (dollyeo)



Series: Actor/Manager AU [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Actors, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Famous Wonwoo, Genderbending, Non-famous Soonyoung, Romantic Comedy, managers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 14:57:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollyeo/pseuds/transit
Summary: Actor!Wonwoo/Manager!Soonyoung AU, where tabloid fodder and a so-so date help Soonyoung come to a few realizations about Wonwoo.-"Dispatch has aninterestingset of photos up. You might wanna do some damage control soon."Soonyoung picks up her tablet, biting at a hangnail on her ring finger as she exits her room and makes her way to the hallway. A quick search shows pictures of Wonwoo'sexclusive hot date,  with the nation's sweetheart with an arm around an unidentified stranger swallowed up in a peacoat that looks two times their size. Soonyoung should know. She was wearing it just last night while she was trying to keep Wonwoo upright and drag him away from a bar fight. It's better that the whole world thinks he's dating someone new, rather than being caught up in drunken arguments and get painted as a hooligan instead of a Casanova."Oh, thank god," says Soonyoung, breathing a sigh of relief at all the indignant comments about Wonwoo's mystery woman, "at least no one thinks he's gay for Onew anymore."





	you are in love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thelaziesthufflepuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelaziesthufflepuff/gifts).



> BB I TOLD YOU I WAS THIRSTY FOR SNWU, no one underestimate the depth of my feelings for them TvT
> 
> thank you for the commission ♥ I know I deviated a bit from some of the earlier headcanons, and this isn't as comprehensive as I wanted it to be, but I hope you enjoy this nonetheless UvU

The morning after the 15th of June, Soonyoung wakes up to the sound of her phone blaring _Ring Ding Dong_ on loop and promptly decides that this is the worst morning of her life.

She groans and tries to bury her head under her comforter. There's only one person that she's used that ringtone on, and it's not someone she wants to talk to right about now. Soonyoung's a lot of things: she's an independent, grown-ass woman, with a blossoming career and a stable income, but when she hears that ring tone at an ungodly hour in the morning, she turns into a quailing child cowering under the covers all over again.

She reaches out, fingers fumbling around the bedside table for a few seconds before finally settling onto her phone. The ringing dies down, and she looks at it with bated breath; when it roars to life all over again, she sighs and answers it with sinking dread in her stomach.

"What is it, Jihoon?" She asks.

"Have you seen the news?" He says, by way of greeting. His voice is flat, solemn, the same kind of gravity she used to tease him about when she first met him at school and found him as stifling as a stuffy ahjussi.

Not for the first time, she wonders what it is about her life that makes the men around her so comically serious in contrast. She should know: she's babysitting the most boring person in this planet everyday of her life.

That same person, though, is probably the only reason Jihoon's even up and about this early, and it has Soonyoung's stomach in knots. She crawls out of bed, rifling around the floor for her robe. "I just woke up," she says. "What happened?"

"Check your laptop, or your phone, _whatever_ ," says Jihoon. "Dispatch has an _interesting_ set of photos up. You might wanna do some damage control soon."

"Are you serious?" Soonyoung mutters, tying the sash around her waist and stepping into her bedroom slippers. "What's wrong?" She looks at the calendar hanging on her dresser, and groans again, the frown on her face deepening into a full-fledged scowl. "I have a date today, Jihoon!"

"Well, it's not my fault the internet is going crazy over Jeon Wonwoo's dating life," says Jihoon, in that snippy tone that Soonyoung _knows_ means he's blaming her for everything. Soonyoung really hates it when he sounds patronizing about her competence. He really needs to get that stick out of his ass, or else he's never gonna get laid, never mind that model from China that keeps making eyes at him -- Wen Junhui is _way_ out of his league.

Soonyoung picks up her tablet, biting at a hangnail on her ring finger as she exits her room and makes her way to the hallway. A quick search shows pictures of Wonwoo's _exclusive hot date_ , with the nation's sweetheart with an arm around an unidentified stranger swallowed up in a peacoat that looks two times their size. Soonyoung should know. She was wearing it just last night while she was trying to keep Wonwoo upright and drag him away from a bar fight. It's better that the whole world thinks he's dating someone new, rather than being caught up in drunken arguments and get painted as a hooligan instead of a Casanova.

"Oh, thank god," says Soonyoung, breathing a sigh of relief at all the indignant comments about Wonwoo's mystery woman, "at least no one thinks he's gay for Onew anymore."

" _That's_ your key takeaway from this?" Jihoon asks, incredulous. 

"Well, I was honestly expecting the worst," says Soonyoung, shrugging. She sets her tablet down on the nearest coffee table. "As long as no one's drugged up, in jail or pregnant, I don't think we have a problem."

"Do you even have any idea where the hell he is?"

Soonyoung peers into her living room, and sure enough, there's the devil himself, sleeping like a baby with Soonyoung's cat curled up at his feet. Even in his sleep, he looks like he's ready for a frickin' photoshoot. Soonyoung shakes her head, glad she's long since learned to be immune to pretty faces; celebrities are too unreal to deal with for mere mortals like herself.

"He's sleeping on my couch and nursing a hangover," says Soonyoung, dryly, like it's a recurring thing that's standard for both of them already. (It is.) She steps back into the hallway and drags her feet to her tiny kitchen in search of coffee. "He's fine."

There's a long, loaded silence on Jihoon's end, one that Soonyoung doesn't really pay attention to in favor of fiddling with the coffee maker. She doesn't really like coffee, but Wonwoo gets really grumpy in the mornings without it, and he keeps hovering over her shoulder and clinging to her like a koala before he's even had enough caffeine in his system just to annoy her into making a cup for him. On-camera, it makes him look endearing; off-camera, it's just a pain in the ass, especially since he's so _bony_ all over, and Soonyoung just wants a minute of peace, thanks.

"So that person in the pictures," Jihoon starts slowly, like he's trying to process it in his mind, "those are all of you?"

"Yeah," says Soonyoung, sticking her tongue out as she tries to figure out the right beans to water ratio. "It's nothing. It'll blow over soon."

"And why, exactly, didn't you just get someone to take him home instead of letting him into your apartment complex?" Jihoon demands.

"It's not like it's the first time!"

" _Not the first time_?"

Soonyoung winces, pulling her phone away from her ear. Honestly, sometimes Jihoon sounds exactly like her father. "My place was nearer, okay. I'm not forking over hundreds of thousands of won if he throws up in the backseat of his Uber."

"Soonyoung, just because he never got caught before, doesn't mean it should have kept happening," says Jihoon, with a pinched voice. "You _know_ there are lines you shouldn't cross."

Soonyoung's heard the same spiel from Jihoon time and time again. He's the one who'd started in the industry, really, and he'd helped her get into her company too, back when she'd been scratching her head over what to do with her minor in business and a fucked-up ligament rendering her major useless. If anyone had told Soonyoung she'd end up being the manager (read: professional babysitter) of one of the country's rising matinee idols, she would have burst a spleen laughing, and then asked if she could get into Shinee's concerts and fanmeets as a bonus.

(She hasn't, yet - - not as much as she prefers, honestly; being Wonwoo's manager is a full-time job that doesn't leave her with a lot of work-life balance, even if it _does_ come with more perks and a fairly substantial disposable income than she'd initially expected. Someday, though, she'll get Wonwoo to say yes to doing a variety show with any idol as a guest - \- _anyone_ , please - - even if Wonwoo keeps looking at boyband members with thinly veiled disgust, like they've affronted him on some deep, spiritual level every time Soonyoung gushes over them. _Someday_.)

Jihoon keeps drilling it into her with increasing frequency, especially since he'd met Junhui on one of their projects together and turned into an emotionally constipated teenage boy all over again every time she said something vaguely flirty. _That_ never fails to be funny to watch, even though Wonwoo keeps rolling his eyes at her every time she tells it. All of those warnings, and yet Jihoon's already weak to it. Or maybe he's reminding himself of it, through Soonyoung -- though why on earth Soonyoung would even _need_ the warning, she doesn't know.

("Trust me, Jihoonie," she'd told him over drinks one night, when they were wrapping up the project, "if I magically get into Wonwoo's pants and get knocked up any time soon, you'll be the first to know."

Jihoon mopped up the mess he'd made on his shirt, after choking on his soju. "If that ever happens, I'm asking Wen Junhui on a date," said Jihoon, sarcasm dripping in his tone.

"Hey," said Soonyoung, laughing, "miracles can happen.")

Still, she hates that sometimes it feels like he doesn't trust her enough to remember she isn't living in some k-drama where people just fall in love at first sight and believe that love will find a way to help them get a happy ending someday. She's pragmatic, not delusional, after all.

"What, are you worried about his reputation now?" Soonyoung scoffs. "Relax, I'm not gonna jump him, Jihoon. I know I keep thirsting over idols, but I'm a professional when it comes to work."

"I'm not worried about _his_ rep," Jihoon mutters. "It's you I'm worried about."

Honestly, Soonyoung's mother would _die_ if she even got an inkling that _any_ guy was interested in her, much less a celebrity like Wonwoo. Soonyoung's stumbled into enough blind dates and awkward dinners with salarymen her mother sets up in increasing frequency enough to know exactly how desperate she is to get her last remaining daughter hitched.

("I'm nearing retirement and I need to see my grandchildren before I die, Kwon Soonyoung," she keeps saying whenever Soonyoung comes home for Chuseok or New Year's. "We're not getting any younger!"

"Unnie already has twins, mom," reminds Soonyoung, without fail. "You've got two for the price of one!"

"Why don't you just get together with that Jihoon boy," says her mom, each and every time. "Why do you have to keep sighing over idols until now?"

Idols and Lee Jihoon? No fucking contest, for sure.)

Hence, the blind date she has in her calendar, just to show she's even making _some_ effort of looking for men that aren't her family members, Jihoon, or Wonwoo. The guy's someone Junhui knows, a stylist she's worked with from way back when, and Soonyoung just couldn't say no to Wen Junhui's hopeful face. Soonyoung doesn't know how Jihoon does it everyday.

"It's _fine_ ," she says. "You know I live with my brother. I'll get him to drive Wonwoo back to his place, if you're so worried about photographers trailing him."

Jihoon starts to nag her again, already ranting about precautions and how all men are wolves, but Soonyoung's already tuning him out just as she hears Hoshi, her cat, purr in the other room, no doubt from Wonwoo petting him and rubbing his chin. Not long after, Wonwoo slinks into the kitchen with Hoshi in his arms, cat hair sticking to his shirt and smelling like last night's booze and sweat; Soonyoung wrinkles her nose at him, but hands him a cup of coffee as a small mercy.

"Whossit?" Wonwoo grumbles, taking a seat across her. He props his feet up on her lap, and she's tempted to shove them off, but she knows he'll just keep doing it until she's too tired to fend him off, stubborn and insistent to the end. As a work ethic, it makes him a terrific charge; in real life, it's like dealing with an overgrown kid that's just intent on annoying her into submission.

She mouths Jihoon's name, and Wonwoo makes a Face. Soonyoung knows that face; it's the same face Wonwoo puts on when Soonyoung's within the vicinity of a boy group, or a celebrity with a face she really likes, or any guy that Soonyoung compliments in general. A month ago, it had been Chan the intern; last night, it had been the guy that kept hovering around Soonyoung with his lips so close they were touching the shell of her ear, trying to get her to dance with him.

Wonwoo had tried to punch the guy for being too handsy. Wonwoo was a fucking idiot whose white knight instincts overrode all logic that a) Soonyoung had a black belt in Taekwondo and could have taken him down if he tried to do anything, b) he barely had any muscle on him, c) ruining that pretty face would have taken lots of concealer to keep his and Soonyoung's bank accounts happy, and d) he had an image to maintain as the intimidatingly hot stuff of every teenage girl's fantasies, never mind how awkward and uncool he was in real life. He just _wasn't_ supposed to be at bars, or getting into fights, period.

He really shouldn't have been with her that night, celebratory drinks and birthdays aside. That realization plants the guilt in Soonyoung's stomach, heavy, and makes Jihoon's voice sound sharper in her ears, more damning.

A hand reaches over to brush her hair out of her eyes, and Soonyoung looks up to Wonwoo frowning at her.

 _What's wrong_? Wonwoo mouths, and she shakes her head, keeping her lips pursed. Dissatisfied, Wonwoo settles back into his seat, petting Hoshi the entire time, even if he looks like he'd rather yank the phone out of her ear instead.

She lets JIhoon nag at her until he runs out of steam, and it's already a little past eight when he finally lets her go. She sets her phone down so forcefully that Hoshi jumps a little in his perch on Wonwoo's lap, but Wonwoo just drinks his coffee and waits for her to talk. At least, until she stops screaming into her hands, frustration seeping out of her in bits and bursts. She's trained him better than to talk when she's having an inner melt down.

"Do you want pancakes?" Is all he asks her, when she finally stops yelling. He says it like they're a pair of newlyweds being utterly domestic, just like the last episode in that drama he did with Junhui while Jihoon watched with a pinched expression the entire time. Soonyoung knows better, though; she can smell the bullshit a mile away.

"You don't even know how to cook," she accuses him. Wonwoo shrugs, and doesn't look the least bit apologetic.

"You do, though," he says. Bastard.

"I'm supposed to be off-duty right now," she protests. "You don't have a schedule until tomorrow!"

"You're never off-duty with me around," he says.

"Slave driver," she says, shaking her head, but gets up to look for pancake mix anyway.

 

 

Soonyoung ends up burning the pancakes a bit, and they come out messy and misshapen but Wonwoo eats every bit of it anyway. It takes Soonyoung threatening him with a spatula and replacing every song on his playlist with nothing but SM artists to get him to stop complaining to her face, but from the updates on Wonwoo's private IG showing the fruit of Soonyoung's disastrous attempt at cooking with nothing but a praying emoji as a caption, it doesn't deter Wonwoo's ability to be a thorn in Soonyoung's side, both online and off it.

They're arguing over the right butter to syrup ratio when Soonyoung gets the call from top management. She herds Wonwoo into the shower despite his grumbling, and in the entire time Wonwoo spends dunking his head under the freezing cold water, Soonyoung gets the upbraiding of her life. It's nothing new to her: in comparison to the other managers in their roster, Soonyoung's honestly heard enough stories from the rumor mill to know she's gotten lucky with Wonwoo's capacity to being a pain in the ass extending only to his personality. His predilection for staying in instead of having a wild night out spares Soonyoung from the headache of having to deal with odd hours and constant fretting over any scandals breaking out near-daily, and what little fodder the tabloids have on Wonwoo is mostly a gross exaggeration or an outright lie.

Like, say, that time he'd gotten caught backstage at a Shinee concert, and all because Soonyoung had threatened him on pain of death that if he was going to invite himself to her _personal_ hobbies at her _private_ time like a jackass, then he may as well make himself useful and not embarrass her in the godly faces of her teenage fantasies come to life. That picture a staff member took of Wonwoo looking intensely at Onew like he'd rather stab himself than shake his hand? Netizens had started yelling about how Wonwoo was about to _devour_ the idol, and suddenly the gay rumors started cropping up with no way of going back.

Twenty minutes later, Soonyoung's put together a hasty email to the PR head and woken her brother up to drive Wonwoo back to his condo (" _Ow_ , noona, what the _fuck_?" "Wake up, or I'll tell mom about that time you brought a girl over and she stayed overnight!" "That was for a _group project_ , there were five other people here, _why are you ruining my life_?"). She throws a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt at Wonwoo, just as he pokes his head out of the bathroom door.

"Thanks," says Wonwoo, voice muffled by the fabric. He peels the shirt away from his cheek, and squints down at it. "Are these your clothes?"

"Don't ask if you don't wanna know," she says, tipping her chin up imperiously. Wonwoo's already stick-thin as it is so the pants aren't a problem, but his shoulders are broad; he's lucky she tends to buy oversized shirts and sweaters a lot, even if it _does_ make her brother wrinkle his nose at her when she wears them.

"Duly noted," says Wonwoo, voice sounding strained. He disappears back into the bathroom, and she hears the shower turn on again. Neat freak.

By the time Wonwoo gets out of the shower, Soonyoung has (mostly) everything under control. Emails sent, calls made, threats of legal action disseminated to the proper channels, and no one's life is falling apart so far. Perfect. She throws a baleful look at Wonwoo, right when he enters the living room looking more put-together than Soonyoung does on a good day.

"I'm so glad you're single right now," she tells him.

Wonwoo cocks an eyebrow at her, digging into his ear with a towel-wrapped finger, and the redness around the shell of it is a stark contrast to the white cotton. "Why?" He asks. "Did you finally fall in love with me after all this time?"

"You wish," she snorts. Wonwoo rolls his eyes, like he doesn't expect anything otherwise. "I feel like if you suddenly got a girlfriend, the entire agency would be worked to the bone trying to cover your ass."

"What if I got a shotgun marriage, then?" Wonwoo teases. He hovers by the edge of the couch, and when she pats the space beside her, he gingerly takes a seat. "What would you do, then?"

"I'd pray for your wife," says Soonyoung. "God only knows the kind of suffering you put me through, what more with someone you deluded into marrying you?"

"I'll have you know I was voted second most popular bachelor in an online poll."

"Who came first?"

Wonwoo scowls. "Kim Mingyu."

Soonyoung throws her head back, cackling. Kim Mingyu used to be a full-time model until he got invited to variety shows, and then he became so popular he started getting acting offers, some of them opposite Wonwoo; among Wonwoo's infamous list of people he's rumored to be completely ass over tits for, one of them is Mingyu, and it just makes Wonwoo seethe every time.

Soonyoung has no idea what Wonwoo even finds appalling about it. If he wasn't going to accept Kim Mingyu into his life, Soonyoung was perfectly ready to hook up with him any time, if only he looked her way. Wonwoo just looked at her like she was crazy, or greatly disappointed him in some deep, unexplainable level. Seeing Wonwoo struggle to maintain a straight face around Mingyu on set was always entertaining to watch.

"With those standards, I have no idea why you even thought you'd come close," she scoffs. She knows what she's talking about: she's seen Mingyu on the Return of Superman. Her ovaries have never felt so active until then.

Wonwoo makes a face, but from the sag of his shoulders, she can tell he's sulking. Wonwoo looks like the type to brood and then forget about it afterwards, disaffected to the core, but that's only half-right; he thinks and he thinks and he just can't put a stop to it, to the point of retreating into himself for days on end.

On the really bad days, it's hard to get through to him, even harder to make him do anything he doesn't want to. It's been a while since he's had those days, but in some ways, it's also because she's learned how to handle him, at times. It's like wearing kid gloves 24/7, except there's a lot more head rubs involved. Even now, she's already setting her palm on the back of his head, petting him. His frown relaxes into a pout, the same kind he makes so often that she wants to coo at him and then hit him upside the head.

It's a complicated feeling.

"Don't worry too much," she says. "If it's any consolation, I'll also be there to tell your hypothetical wife all about your saddening lack of game before you even met her. Heck, I'll even tell the whole world, and they don't even have to pay me!"

Wonwoo shoves her fingers away from his face, when she tries to pinch at his cheek. "I don't think people care about my dating life as much as you think they do."

"Well, _I_ care," Soonyoung points out. "Don't you think that counts?"

Wonwoo stares at her, and Soonyoung returns the look full-on. There's something strange that flashes in Wonwoo's eyes, bright, sharp, like he's considering something, and it's almost like he's trying to dissect her face, pick her apart in his mind.

It's nothing like his face, when he's playing a rookie cop, or a young detective on the scene of a crime. It's not the face he makes when he's a villain, a traitor, a cheating boyfriend, a murderous psychopath. This is the face he makes, when he's about to make a decision, right before the climax: a lie, untangling to bare the truth. A knife, sinking into skin, fatal. A confession, right before the penultimate kiss. It's a familiar face on the TV sets of ahjummas and teenage girls tuning in to fawn over him, and it's one Soonyoung intimately knows, has memorized like the back of her hand through how many takes and cuts. She doesn't think she'll get tired of looking at his face, ever.

"Yeah," he murmurs, so softly Soonyoung almost doesn't hear. "It's the only thing that matters to me."

He raises a hand. Reaches out with his fingers, and touches the tip of her ear. Sometimes, he's so good-looking she thinks she now knows what it must feel like, to be an actress in the same scene as him, wavering between playing pretend and reality. He really has the kind of gaze that makes your heart catch in your throat, your breath stutter and stop. Her chest. It feels like something's fluttering in it, beating, wildly.

"Noona, have you seen my car keys, I can't find them in my--" Her brother's voice, loud and booming, cuts through the tense silence, and Soonyoung jumps in her seat, just as Wonwoo's hand darts back, retreating. He pokes his head into the living room, and he narrows his eyes at them both. "Oh. I didn't know Wonwoo-sshi was done in the bathroom."

"We were just talking," Soonyoung squeaks out, hiding her face behind her laptop. It's probably red, so red, her skin feels like it's burning. "And your keys are probably in your jacket, you slob."

"Uh huh," says her brother, skeptically. He turns to Wonwoo, who's practically sitting ramrod straight on the couch, a healthy bit of space between him and Soonyoung. "I'll be back in a minute. We're good to go, aren't we?"

He says it like it isn't even a suggestion. Wonwoo nods, strangely mute in the face of Soonyoung's brother, who turns to Soonyoung and mouths something like, _I'm watching you_. Soonyoung just raises a finger at him in response.

"Sorry he's always like this," says Soonyoung. For the life of her, she could never quite figure out what it is that's made her brother hate Wonwoo on sight, but Wonwoo seems to take it in stride without questioning anything, like he's been prepared for it from the start. "I swear he's actually the biggest softie."

"It's fine," says Wonwoo, his pursed lips loosening into a small smile. "It just means he's acknowledged me as a man, that's all."

"I have no idea what that's even supposed to mean," says Soonyoung.

Wonwoo just flicks her on the forehead, and his smile grows at her annoyed hiss.

"You'll find out someday," he says, cryptically, and gets up to follow her brother outside instead.

 

 

 _What are we doing tonight?_ Wonwoo texts her, barely ten minutes after he leaves her apartment with her brother.

You _are hiding from the press, and_ I _am going out_ , Soonyoung texts back.

 _Out where and with who_ , Wonwoo shoots back, before Soonyoung even puts her phone down.

 _A date_ , she says, and follows it up with, _none of your business_.

She gets a frazzled call from her brother, not long after.

"Noona, why am I being pressured into turning the car around by an insane person," he asks, sounding pained.

"Are you _driving_ right now?" Soonyoung asks.

"I had to pull over," says her brother. "He kept unbuckling his seatbelt and trying to escape every time we hit a stoplight."

"Oh my god, give the phone to Wonwoo," says Soonyoung.

"Who are we having dinner with tonight," says Wonwoo.

"You're not invited," says Soonyoung. "This is a _date_."

"What do you _mean_ you're going on a date," Wonwoo demands. "After _last night_ , and our scandalous relationship making the headlines--"

"I don't wanna know," she hears her brother's voice call out. "Noona, at least tell me you used protection, or I'm telling dad!"

"Stop giving people the wrong idea!" She hisses. "And if you want to whine at someone, go bother Junhui. _She's_ the one who set it up, not me."

"That little traitor," mutters Wonwoo. "Just because I gave her a fake number when she asked for Jihoon's--"

"Why would you even have Jihoon's number, you two _never_ talk."

"Why does anyone even have cellphones?" Wonwoo retorts, bordering cranky and snappish, the way he gets when he's being oddly defensive about something. Soonyoung's used to it enough to not be surprised by how quickly he tries to divert her attention by deflecting. "Anyway, I forbid you from going on a date. We have an early schedule tomorrow."

"I'm so glad you have enough confidence in my abilities to charm the pants off of anyone," says Soonyoung, and Wonwoo chokes, "but I don't put out on the first date. I'll be home before midnight, mother."

"Where are you going? What's his name?" Wonwoo's voice sounds distant, like he's just pulled the phone away from his face to talk to the only other long-suffering occupant in the car. "Did you know your sister is going on a date tonight?"

"I don't know and I don't care," is the only response he gets for his crazy. Not for the first time, Soonyoung feels a rush of affection seize into her heart. "She's a grown woman, she can do whatever the hell she wants."

"I'm not telling you," says Soonyoung. "You'll probably show up and scare him off by pretending you're my boyfriend." Which he's done. Multiple times, just to be a troll. All those acting skills, going to waste for the purposes of evil. She sighs.

"I'll find out eventually," Wonwoo promises.

Soonyoung hangs up.

 

 

Soonyoung's honestly half-expecting Wonwoo to show up at her doorstep within the next hour, but a quick text from her brother about how he'd _dropped the crazy person off already, you owe me samgyeopsal_ assuages the dread a little. She orders a box of fried chicken for lunch, and polishes it off with leftover junk food and soda while binge-watching the latest episode of the drama Wonwoo plays a supporting role in, a quiet, unassuming boy next door with no ill intentions and only the purest of hearts that _clearly_ Wonwoo is anything but.

She tears a chicken wing apart with more viciousness than she's conscious of, only to set it aside when she gets sauce all over her shirt. Gross.

"Happy post-birthday to me, still living the life of a slob in my thirties," she says, to no one in particular. Hoshi watches her from his perch above her still-warm laptop, judging her with his tiny, beady eyes.

She fires off a quick text to Jisoo, Junhui's manager, begging him to pass a message onto Junhui to not answer any of Wonwoo's calls or texts for the rest of the day.

It's not that Soonyoung's even excited about the date -- more like, she just wants to get it over and done with, preferably without feeling guilty the entire time. Even without Wonwoo breathing down her neck with passive-aggressive texts, she always winds up meeting perfectly nice, amiable men that she barely pays attention to the rest of the night, half of her mind sorting through Wonwoo's schedule or thinking about where to get a perfectly steaming cup of coffee for him on their way to the airport at five AM the next day. It's like she's married to her job at this point and, by extension, to Wonwoo.

If Soonyoung's honest, the longest running relationship she's ever had is her commitment to her work. The dates, they barely make it past three repeats, not when none of the guys she even meets can handle always playing second fiddle to her job. Having Jeon Wonwoo as the focus of it isn't helping matters -- "How am I supposed to compete with that?" Her last date asked, with a wry, regretful smile that almost broke her heart.

She wonders if this is what it feels like to have a kid, except the kid is only a few weeks younger and the star of many a teenage fantasy. You put all of your time and devotion in them, in the hopes that it will work out for the better. There's persistence, there's trust, and then there's mutual understanding. Maybe there's even a bit of love in there, somewhere.

Or maybe it's Stockholm Syndrome instead. Soonyoung snorts to herself, and downs the rest of her soda. That sounds like an even more logical explanation to why she's still working with Wonwoo, even if he drives her crazy half the time. There's just no way it's anything but that.

The first time Soonyoung met Wonwoo, she was being toured around the company building with the other new hires and management trainees. She'd trailed behind the group as they made their way into one of the studios, barely paying attention as she chatted with a production assistant named Seungkwan, when she'd bumped into Wonwoo and marked the start of her suffering under his thumb with an inauspicious start.

In retrospect, if _she_ had been walking just a few seconds faster slower, even stopping in her tracks, and if _he_ hadn't been brisk-walking towards the opposite direction, then they would have just passed each other by and never intersected at all. If Soonyoung hadn't been carrying a half-empty cup of coffee, and if Wonwoo hadn't been in a horrible mood to begin with, it wouldn't have been too big of an issue, then.

As it was, she'd bumped into him just as Seungkwan was telling her all about the insane internship adviser, and promptly upended the contents of her cup onto his pristine white shirt.

"Fuck!" Wonwoo blurted out, jumping away from her like he'd been zapped; the front of his shirt was brown, clearly unsalvageable. His eyes flashed, furiously, before settling onto her.

"I am so, _so_ sorry," Soonyoung babbled, already going through her purse for wet wipes and the stain remover she kept in her bag for really bad period days. "Here, let me help you clean up--"

"No, I don't need you to--" Wonwoo grabbed at her wrist, and his gaze on her was so burning, it almost made Soonyoung turn tail and run if she hadn't thought of Jihoon frowning down at her for the rest of her life. He let out an irritated huff, keeping her in place. "Will you just stay still?"

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," she squeaked, and her fingers itched to clasp together as a familiar beat rang through her head. "I'll pay you back, I promise!"

Wonwoo's stare was inscrutable, and Soonyoung could already hear the cogs working in his head: with what money, and what job, now that she was going to get fired on her first day? 

"What's your name?" He asked.

She managed to stutter it out, in between praying for a sinkhole to magically appear and swallow her up.

"Well, Kwon Soonyoung-sshi," he said, without a smile, "you can start by paying me back with your life starting right now--"

He took a step forward, and Soonyoung almost had a heart attack at the movement, only to be saved by a staff member calling Wonwoo over to hurry up. She watched Wonwoo's lips twist downward into a scowl, and he took a long, lingering look at her before turning away.

"Oh my god," said Soonyoung, to Seungkwan, "what does that even _mean_?"

"I don't know," said Seungkwan, sounding faintly close to hyperventilating. "What kind of pick-up line was that?"

"That's not a pick-up line, that's a _threat_ ," she wailed. "Does that mean I have to pay him back with my body now? Isn't slavery illegal?"

"Noona, I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation," Seungkwan warbled beside her, holding onto her arm, "you just spilled coffee on _Jeon Wonwoo_."

Soonyoung wondered if she was supposed to recognize the name, but kept coming up with a blank. "Who?"

Seungkwan gave her a look that Soonyoung would come to learn, over many years of getting to know him, meant he thought she was an idiot of the highest order. "How are you in this industry again?"

"Honestly, I have no fucking idea," she said.

A few days later, they'd introduced her to her new charge. When Jeon Wonwoo smirked at her from his spot on the cushy swivel chair in the meeting room, she wondered just how long she would last. If she would even last.

Nearly a decade later and she's still here, alternating between coddling Wonwoo and threatening to kick his ass. It's a good arrangement so far, half-terrorizing and half-suffering through his quirks. Just like a marriage, except without the sex.

(Though sometimes, she wonders, if maybe crashing her dates, or trying to monopolize her time and attention is supposed to mean something else. Something more. When he looks at her, she wonders if he wants to kiss her like one of his love interests on-screen, if maybe he would just let his fingers rest at the dimples on her back and--)

"Oh god," she says out loud, letting her head hit her headboard with a loud _thud_ , "I really need to get laid."

She can't be fantasizing about Wonwoo like that. _Can't_.

 

 

Back in high school, in the peak of her fangirl phase, Soonyoung mapped out all the things she wanted in her ideal type.

He'd have to have eyes like Yunho, a face like L, a voice like Hwanhee, and maybe a body built like a 2PM member. He'd have to be funny, too, able to make her laugh at a drop of a hat, and he should be perfectly clean-cut and put-together enough that she could take him home to meet her parents, but a little dirty enough to let her indulge in kissing him all night.

She had abstract fantasies pinned to idols, touched herself with tentative, shaking fingers at night and whispered their names as she rutted and whined; always, they seemed impassable, untouchable, beyond her reach, and the want burned in her like longing.

The older she got, the more pragmatic she became. Realistic. Celebrities, they were just too far out there, unlikely. The men across her in private booths at restaurants more upscale than her usual takeaway boxes at home and catering options on set -- they were tangible, at least. Within her grasp, waiting.

Xu Minghao, though, looks everything like a celebrity should be, from the carefully styled and coiffed hair, the sharp cut of his clothes, the single earring dangling from his left ear. His mouth, pursed, looks even softer than Soonyoung's, the lip tint making them look bitten-red even in the dark interior of the Italian restaurant. Everything about him screams young, ambitious rich kid, and Soonyoung's the unfortunate soul that's ordered spaghetti on a first date and is trying not to spill sauce on any part of her body other than her mouth.

Unfortunately, Xu Minghao is also either very easily distracted, or so bored out of his mind that he can't even keep his full attention on her. Soonyoung hides her sigh behind her napkin, and wonders if it's too early to excuse herself to go to the bathroom for the nth time.

"So," says Soonyoung, after an awkward pause in between the waiter setting their orders in front of them, Minghao picking at a perfectly safe bruschetta with a glass of wine on the side. "How do you know Jun?"

"I was her stylist when she was still based in Beijing," he says, tone perfectly even despite the lilt in his accent. He takes a sip of wine, and narrows his eyes at something over the rim of his glass so quickly she thinks she imagines it, but no. She's had years of experience watching out for Wonwoo's tells to know. "Then when she moved here, she practically guilt-tripped me into coming with her. It took about a year before I caved in to her stubbornness."

"Ah," says Soonyoung, perking up. "it's the puppy dog eyes, isn't it?"

Minghao laughs, and Soonyoung starts to relax in her seat, glad they at least have their fondness for Junhui as common ground. "Yeah," he says, sounding so fond she almost has to wonder, _what if_. "She's really annoying when she gets her way."

It almost reminds her a bit of how Wonwoo sounds, when he's talking on the phone with his mother, or rattling off his ideal type to all the reporters, by rote. _Cheerful, spunky, knows how to bring out the best in me without even trying_ , he says, each and every time. _Someone that makes me happy_.

Xu Minghao is nothing like Jeon Wonwoo, though, and Soonyoung wonders why she's even thinking of it. It makes her feel like there's something missing, gnawing at her stomach more than hunger.

She looks down at her fork, and tries to twirl a strand of pasta with an intensity she only reserves for grilling meat at a barbeque place, or staring Wonwoo down. "Uh, are you...?" Minghao raises an eyebrow. "I mean, are you and Jun...? 

Minghao looks like he just ate something sour, and he pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. "I'm gay," says Minghao, flatly. "I don't even know why I even got roped into doing this in the first place."

"Thank fucking god," says Soonyoung. "I thought I was gonna have to come up with a good excuse to not give you my number. No offense."

Minghao wrinkles his nose. "Excuse me?"

"You kept looking somewhere else the entire time," says Soonyoung, raising her fork to point behind her. "I might not be the most attractive person in this room, but I have no idea what's so interesting about the decor that it keeps catching your attention."

"Sorry, it's just--" Minghao heaves a sigh. "It's complicated."

Soonyoung thinks about Wonwoo, who's left her no less than 21 increasingly cranky and whiny messages on her phone in the past hour alone. "Try me."

"There's just this guy I met at work and--" Minghao closes his eyes. "Never mind. It's stupid."

"It's always another guy," says Soonyoung, nodding her head. "Last time I broke up with someone, do you know what he told me? He told me I was too obsessed with my job that I was probably half in love with the person I was managing. Can you believe that?"

"And are you?"

"Am I what?"

Minghao's eyes are wide, probing. "Are you in love with him?"

Soonyoung laughs, and starts to open her mouth to let out an emphatic _NO_ , but then she thinks of how Wonwoo dragged her out last night even if he hated crowds and bars just so she could say hello to her thirties without feeling lonely, or how he ate her pancakes even though he claimed they were horrible to his diet. She thinks of how he looked, when they were on the couch that morning; like he wanted to _kiss her_ , or something.

 _Oh fuck_ , she thinks, with sinking dread and horror. _I think I'm falling in love with Jeon Wonwoo_.

Oblivious to her epiphany and struggle, Minghao starts cutting up a slice of pizza, knife spearing through the mozarella like he'd much rather stab it elsewhere. "Why is that guy stalking us?" Minghao mutters under his breath. Soonyoung whips her head around, flustered, and she's fully intent on getting up and stalking over to Jeon Wonwoo to give him a piece of her mind about _stalking_ and how she's a perfectly grown woman that doesn't need a chaperone on her god damn dates, thank you very much--

Except it's not Wonwoo at all, that yelps and tries to sink into his seat across the room. It's -- and this is the part Soonyoung almost has a hard time believing that she has to pinch herself to be convinced it's real--

It's Kim Mingyu.

"What the hell?" She blurts out, wondering if she sounds as incredulous as she feels. Mingyu waves at them sheepishly, before finally walking over to them.

"Soonyoung-noona, fancy seeing you here," says Mingyu, smoothly taking a vacant chair from the nearest empty table and dragging it over to their spot. "I didn't know you and Minghao knew each other."

"We were on a date," says Soonyoung, only to trail off at Mingyu's hurt expression. "I mean--"

"Go away, Mingyu," says Minghao, bluntly, scowling down at his pizza. The kicked puppy look on Mingyu's face is so wounded and open Soonyoung has to remind herself that, yes, this is real life, not some drama Mingyu's acting in, and yes, Soonyoung was finally experiencing what it felt like to be in a twisted love triangle (of sorts), except it was probably more of a bunch of squiggly lines at this point.

 _How_ , she wonders, _how is this real life?_

"I thought you were dating Wonwoo-hyung," says Mingyu, turning to her like she's betrayed him and all of his ancestors and future progency in one go. "Why are you cheating on him now? Did you two break up?"

"I'm not dating Wonwoo," says Soonyoung, mechanically. Mingyu looks even more flabbergasted at the admission.

"You _should_ be," he squawks. _Instead of stomping on other people's love lives in the process_ , she reads in between the lines. She's not stupid. She's picked up a thing or two watching the writers on Wonwoo's drama work.

"You're making her uncomfortable," Minghao chides Mingyu. He doesn't bat his fingers away from reaching for a tiny bite-sized piece of Minghao's pizza, though. "Stop it."

"Should I be, though?" Soonyoung wonders.

"Of course you should," says Mingyu, sounding even more determined than anyone else in their table. "You already have one scandal together, what's one more? Everyone already thinks you're a thing."

"How did you know that was even _me_?"

"You're _always_ together," Mingyu scoffs, like it's a dumb question. "Besides, he'd _never_ willingly step inside a dive bar unless you wanted to go. You know how picky he is when it comes to where he gets drunk."

The whole time Soonyoung's been Wonwoo's manager, she's only seen him drink in three kinds of places: at a work-related afterparty where he couldn't choose the venue but was at least surrounded by his co-workers, a classy rooftop bar where everything cost two to three times their actual price but had better security than a bank, and inside the comfort of his home, or Soonyoung's. They'd clink their cans of beer together in the balcony overlooking Seoul, and talk about everything and nothing under the darkness of the night, the stars barely visible in the city -- just like old friends, or something different.

Something more.

"Wonwoo-hyung already looks at you like you're the best thing that's ever happened to him in the world," Mingyu goes on. "He's always talking about you in interviews. It's so cute it's gross."

He picks up a bruschetta, taking a small bite before pressing it to Minghao's lips, coaxing him to eat. Minghao looks like he's suffering from just letting Mingyu rope him into something so childish, even _intimate_ , but he opens his mouth and nibbles on the rest of it anyway. Mingyu looks so pleased with himself, and so, so endeared by it. And Minghao-- he's looking right back at Mingyu the same way, too.

Soonyoung thinks she knows what Mingyu's talking about, now. She folds the napkin on her lap, and waves the waiter over for the bill.

She's got things to think about and places to be, tonight.

 

 

On her way to Wonwoo's place, she thinks about something that happened in the last episode he'd shot, in that project he had with Junhui.

They were shooting the confession scene first, transitioning into the love scene right after. Any other day and Soonyoung would be bothering the PAs or hanging out with the writers instead of watching Wonwoo, not since the last love scene he had that had her snorting so loudly the sound director had to shoo her out.

Now, though, she felt like she could control her giggles, if only for Junhui's sake (and Jihoon's, even if Jihoon would never admit to it on pain of death). Jun had been fretting over the scene for days, agonizing over how Jihoon would take it, if he would even feel anything about it, and, oh, "Are you sure I'm not stepping on any toes?"

"Don't worry," Soonyoung assured her. "The only kind of action Wonwoo's been getting is with his right hand."

Junhui gave her a funny look, inscrutable. "Are you two having a fight?"

"What? No way," said Soonyoung, popping a bite-sized donut in her mouth as they passed by the snack table. "We're cool. He just gets super weird about love scenes. Says he can't concentrate with me around."

"I think I know what he means," said Junhui, wistfully; her gaze was fixed at the distance, across the room, where Jihoon was talking with one of the coordi unnies. "It's hard to act like you're in love with someone else when the one you like is right in front of you, instead."

Soonyoung never got to probe her on it, not when Junhui was ambushed to retouch her hair and makeup, so Soonyoung made her way to the other end of the set, right where Wonwoo was rereading his script. She didn't have to wave her hand in front of him to get his attention, then; he looked up at her, wearing the school uniform of the high school senior he was playing, looking impossibly young and more handsome than any hot upperclassman Soonyoung had pined over back in the day that Soonyoung might have felt her stomach churn at his smile, just a little.

Maybe it was just the donut. Blech.

"Excited for your big scene?" She asked, waggling her eyebrows at him.

Wonwoo grimaced, lips pursed into a tight line. "Not really," said Wonwoo. "I feel like I should get a body guard after this, and maybe a restraining order. Who knows what Jihoon's going to do with me?"

"It's fine," said Soonyoung. "Jihoonie knows it's all fake." She took a seat beside Wonwoo, crossing her legs together. It was so hot with all the lights and the aircon turned off, to keep the noise from interfering with the acoustics. "And anyway, Jun told me she was going to pretend she was sucking face with him instead of you. Congrats, you've just been downgraded to Jihoon's level."

"Thanks for laughing at my pain," said Wonwoo, snorting. He rolled up his script and started fanning at himself, hard enough that a bit of it was reaching Soonyoung. Soonyoung whined and scooted closer, dragging her chair over to him. Wonwoo smirked down at her, and she was too tired and hot to do more than glare at him, daring him to say a word.

He didn't press it, at least. He looked at the set, watching the hustle and bustle of the props people and the director barking orders at the tech guys. "It's not like I don't do the same thing when I'm acting, though."

"Who do you think about?" Soonyoung mumbled, feeling sleepy. She closed her eyes and leaned against Wonwoo's shoulder. "I bet it's one of your Love Live girls again, the one that keeps going Nico Nico Nii."

"Yazawa Nico is a goddess," said Wonwoo, somberly. He picked at a lock of Soonyoung's hair, just a little above her shoulder. "You know, you should think about growing your hair out and tying it up in pigtails, and then maybe for the agency's Halloween party you could--"

"I'm still not cosplaying, no matter how much you pay me," said Soonyoung, shutting him down without opening her eyes.

Soonyoung could hear the pout in his voice, fake cute. She wanted to gag. "Not even for my birthday?"

"I'm filing for harrassment and resigning if you don't shut up," she said. Wonwoo laughed and patted her head, messing her hair up.

He let her nap on his shoulder until it was time for them to run through their blocking; Soonyoung wandered over to where Chan the intern and Seungkwan were, standing off to the side and catching up on the latest gossip. They settled down when the familiar "Quiet on the set!" rang through the room, and when the cameras started rolling, Soonyoung watched Wonwoo look at Junhui like she was the best fucking person he ever met in the world and almost forgot that they were filming.

When Wonwoo reached out for Junhui, holding her close to him, Soonyoung almost felt like she was in there, somewhere, coexisting with them in that moment of intimacy. Like she could just turn her head and she could breathe him in, see the pinpricks of sweat along his scalp, the way his pupils dilated and constricted at turns, looking at her like he wanted to devour her whole, fully.

This wasn't real life, though, not the tender, tremolous smile Junhui gave Wonwoo, or the raw ache in Wonwoo's throat, as he breathed out her name. Soonyoung looked over at Jihoon, whose face remained impassive, unyielding; she'd known him long enough to notice how white his knuckles looked, clutching his phone in his hand. She looked at the ground, instead, suddenly embarrassed at catching him when he might not have wanted her to see him, at a vulnerable moment.

She heard more than saw Junhui sigh and whimper into the kiss, the groan, guttural and deep, that came from Wonwoo's throat in response. It was barely a couple of hours and only how many retakes, and yet it felt like eternity to Soonyoung, awkward and off-kilter. Maybe she was more exhausted than she thought, or she was coming down with something.

"Don't you think he's gotten a lot better at doing love scenes these days?" Soonyoung commented in passing to Seungkwan and Chan, in between takes. She'd popped open the first few buttons of her shirt in the heat, but her throat was itchy, parched.

"How would you know?" Seungkwan snorted. "You never bothered to watch any of it before."

"I watch it on TV!" She protested. "That's not weird, right, Chan?"

Chan fidgeted in place, ducking his head away, clearly unwilling to get involved. _Interns_ , honestly.

Seungkwan shook his head, a wry grin playing on his lips. "You know we don't have a company policy banning employees from dating each other, right, noona?" said Seungkwan, loftily.

Soonyoung stared at him blankly. "What am I supposed to do with that information?" She blinked at Seungkwan, and then at Chan. "Sorry, boys, but I'm not interested in younger guys."

Seungkwan just rolled his eyes. "Noona, you're an idiot," Seungkwan felt the need to inform her, yet again.

"Thanks, Seungkwan," she chirped. "I'll let you know when I actually start listening to you the minute you start sounding less like you're full of bullshit."

"Just think about it, noona," said Chan, with a shy, blooming grin. "You never know when that information might come in handy."

"I'll take note of it," she said, and went off to look for an airconditioned room to keep the heat at bay.

She felt more than saw Wonwoo's gaze follow her on her way out.

 

 

Wonwoo's not at his home, when Soonyoung visits.

She even checks it, letting herself inside with the keycard he'd given her a long time ago and seeing no signs of life inside; on a normal day, the place already looked barely like it was lived in, straight out of a home interior design magazine, immaculate and untouched.

Wonwoo spent most of his time in hotel rooms or his parent's place in Changwon, sleeping more in Soonyoung's couch, even, than in his own bedroom. It was too big, too spacious for one person living alone, no matter how many books Wonwoo kept stacked on the shelves or by the coffee table, or how many video games he collected only for them to collect dust before the cleaning lady dropped by once a week.

Once, Wonwoo had off-handedly offered that she could live with him, if she wanted, to cut down on transportation costs and exorbitant rent prices. At that time, she'd thought he was just being high-handed, entitled; now, she wondered if maybe he was just a little bit lonely, then. If maybe he was offering something more.

"I thought I knew everything about you, but it turns out I didn't," she says aloud. The apartment offers her no reply, only silence.

She shakes her head, and books an Uber home instead.

 

 

Wonwoo's sleeping in front of her doorstep, when she gets home.

She blinks down at him, at his bent head, the beanie barely hiding his face; he's got a plastic bag of what smells like her favorite tteokbokki down the street, and she wonders how many strangers recognized him, at this time. If they even fawned over him and gave him extra, just because.

That, and if maybe Dispatch is having a field day, if he isn't careful.

"Wonwoo-yah," she says, nudging his shoulder. He makes a gutted noise, but refuses to open his eyes. "Wake up. I can't get inside with you blocking the way."

"Mhm," Wonwoo mumbles. "Five more minutes."

"I'll punch you if you don't move."

He opens one eye, squinting at her. "Go for it."

"I'll kiss you then," she threatens.

Wonwoo hesitates, and closes his eyes again. He doesn't say anything, but he raises his chin, high enough it's an invitation. Soonyoung kind of wants to puke, but mostly from the sudden onslaught of nerves in her stomach, lighting it afire. God. He really is too much to deal with, he's going to kill her with feelings at this rate.

"What are you doing," she says, dryly.

"You said you'd kiss me," he says, mulish.

"You look like an idiot like that."

Wonwoo's eyes snap open, and he starts to form words with his mouth, but Soonyoung's faster, pressing their lips together in a kiss so chaste it feels like something straight out of one of his old dramas, from when he was in his early twenties and getting jailbait roles left and right. She's seen him grow, over the years, both in age and in his roles; it's like digging through a box of memories she'd kept under lock and key, nostalgia making it bitter and sweet at turns.

She can feel Wonwoo's sharp intake of breath, now, more than she hears it; she kisses him again, once. Twice. Another, just to remind herself it's real.

Wonwoo doesn't seem to trust in it just yet, though, staring at her with wide eyes, cheeks flushed. His mouth, red and shining with spit under the light outside. She puts a finger up to wipe at his mouth, and he holds onto it in a daze; his hands -- they're trembling.

For an actor, he's not very good at hiding things, she thinks. Or maybe it's not flushing out the feelings, that makes him good at it. Maybe it's just that he doesn't know how else to channel them, when they're filled to the brim, overflowing.

"If I'd known all it took was a bad date for you to kiss me, I would have set you up with more people a long time ago," Wonwoo breathes out.

"You've been talking to Mingyu, haven't you?"

"I have my sources," he says. She scoffs, and pushes herself away.

Not a few seconds later, and she already misses him, the feel of it, the warmth, aching. Love really is a strange, unsettling thing.

 

 

She herds him inside the apartment as quietly as she can. Hoshi greets them in the hallway with a purr, but Wonwoo just pets his head before closing the door shut behind him, to her bedroom. She moves to turn on the lights, but Wonwoo's faster, holding her close, his chest pressed to her back so close she thinks she can feel his heart racing.

In the darkness, she can't see him, but she thinks she knows what his face might look like right now. How it was, when he'd touched her ear. He dips his head to mouth at the curve of it, the shell so pink Soonyoung's shivering, afire.

"I like you," she thinks she hears Wonwoo whisper, into her ear, like a secret he can't bear to part with. "I like you a lot. If you don't remember this night, please, just remember--"

He takes a deep breath, and his fingers touch her cheek. Her jaw. The line of her neck. Every brush of his fingers trails a fire that blossoms down to her chest, lower.

"I like you so much, it's driving me crazy," he says.

She doesn't say anything; he kisses her so fiercely, there's nothing left to say.

 

 

It's sleep that eludes them, that evening.

A kiss turns into two turns into three turns into thirty, like Wonwoo's making up for lost time and Soonyoung all too eager to return it. Wonwoo touches her, under the hem of her dress, and her fingers scrabble at his zipper in return, as if they're two teenagers discovering the wonder of someone else's body for the first time.

Her strokes turn frantic, arrhythmic as his fingers rub in circles through her clothes; she grinds down, and he meets her halfway. She's babbling now, nothing but a litany of his name in between incoherent nothings. The coil in her stomach tightens, and makes her shake.

When he pulls away, it's a whine that tears out of her throat, something that makes her want to quail in shame when she thinks about it, afterwards-- but it only makes Wonwoo take in a sharp, shuddering breath.

"Can we try something?" He asks, tentatively. She lets out a small, inquiring noise, and his eyes seem to darken, as he looks at her through hooded eyes. "I want you to sit on my face."

"What?" She says, almost tempted to laugh incredulously. It tapers off at his thoughtful, considering stare at her fingers fisted into her lap, the same kind of face he makes when he wants to unwrap a present slowly, so it doesn't tear.

"I've been thinking about it for a while now," he says. He reaches out to place his palms against her hips, his skin searing even through her clothes. "Like, a really, really long time."

"You, waiting that long?" Soonyoung teases. She lets her hands rest over his knuckles, the closest to permission she can give without wanting to burst into hysterical laughter. "You're the most impatient person I know."

"Lies," says Wonwoo. "I'm a very patient man." He tries to sound lofty, but all that bleeds out of him is fondness, dripping with a gentleness that makes Soonyoung's insides want to liquefy or spontaneously combust. "I've been waiting for you all this time, haven't I?"

And, really, what is Soonyoung supposed to say to that?

He helps her pull her dress over her head, and the look he gives her makes her feel inexpicably shy and brave all at once. He guides her up to straddle his head, and patiently waits for her to lower herself to him; through the flimsy fabric of her panties, she can feel him breathe through his nose, barely anything separating them now.

He presses a kiss to the soft curve, and she breathes out his name. Bolder, now, he peels apart the cloth and noses at her wetness before putting his mouth on her.

"Oh my god," Soonyoung warbles, her knees buckling as Wonwoo runs his tongue against the slick, up and down, up and down, before tugging her down and sucking at her clit. She braces her hands against the headboard and wonders if this is what it feels like to fall apart. "I swear to god I will _kill you_ if you stop."

She doesn't look at Wonwoo, but she can feel his lips twist into a smirk before his tongue peeks out to lick at her folds. Almost a decade, and it's taken her this long to realize that this is the best way to get him to shut up; the sheer hysteria of it almost makes her laugh out loud, but all she manages is a garbled noise as she reaches down to grab a fistful of his hair, hips rocking into his mouth.

The slow burning in her stomach crests and wanes at turns, and she wants to squirm as it builds up, spiking into her core. The only sounds she can hear are her panting, loud in the quiet of the room, and the slick noise of his tongue laving at her skin, slow, searching. It's like he isn't fazed at all, content to eat her out like he has all the time in the world, but the grip he has on her hips is tight, firm. When she jerks and comes apart, he's there to catch her, mouthing at her skin in the aftershock of her orgasm.

She pulls away from his face, his breath scalding on her sensitized skin, and the whine he lets out makes her muscles clench in anticipation. The wet sheen against his lips, his jaw, his cheeks makes her feel flustered. _I did that_ , she thinks, rubbing the slick away from his chin. _I let him do that_.

"Where on earth," she huffs out, trying to catch her breath; he smacks his lips together, and she bites the inside of her cheek when she catches sight of his tongue, "did you learn how to do that?"

"Intuition," he says, quirking a teasing eyebrow at her. "And maybe lots of romance novels and Cosmo."

She throws her head back with a laugh. "So basically porn," she says, in between chuckles, and he cups her face, crading her cheek so he could kiss her, again and again. She thinks she can still taste herself on his tongue, and it should be gross, but it just makes her shiver, the laughter subsiding into want.

He drags her to him, close enough that their chests are pressed together so tightly Soonyoung swears he can probably feel her heart beating wildly; his cock is still hard, hot between her thighs, and when she ruts against him he lets out a strangled sound.

"Oh god, Soonyoung," he shudders, saying her name like a prayer as his hips jerk up, cock rocking against her slit, " _please_."

"Please what?" She asks, eyes wide with fake innocence, and he groans into her mouth. She reaches down to hold his cock, and it's heavy in her palm, wet with precum at the tip. "What line are you going to use next, Wonwoo-yah?"

"I love you," he breathes out, and she wants to tease him for being so, so cheesy and sentimental, but it just makes her stomach feel like a thousand butterflies are fluttering in it, loose and uncontrollable. "Soonyoung-ah, _please_ let me inside you."

When he begs so prettily like that, Soonyoung thinks, how is anyone supposed to say no?

She smiles and sinks into him, devouring him whole.

 

 

The morning two days after her thirtieth birthday, Soonyoung wakes up to a sore back, a splotchy constellation of bitten-red skin, and a sleepy, cuddly boyfriend that wants nothing more than to cling to her than let her make coffee.

Her limbs are aching all over, but it's a good kind of ache that makes her bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling; it's enough for her to trace the slope of his shoulders, the curve of his back, and feel the tender, raw ache subside. She touches the barest hint of stubble on his jaw. The cupid's bow of his mouth. The slant of his nose. Then, when she's tired of mapping him out with her fingers, she uses her lips instead.

"Morning, babe," she whispers into his skin. He lets out an unintelligible noise, and tightens his hold on her. "I love how you're suddenly as clingy as a python, but I really need to pee right now."

Wonwoo groans, jerking his arm away from her waist. "What a way to kill my boner," he says. She pats the swell of his ass fondly on her way out of bed.

She grabs her phone on her way to the toilet, and scrolls through her contacts. She waits for the call to connect and a raspy, irritated voice snapping at her with an irate, "What is it, Soonyoung?" before relaxing into the toilet seat with a relieved laugh.

"Guess who just got laid last night by Wonwoo," says Soonyoung, by way of greeting.

There's a rustle of sheets from the other line, and the sound of a loud thump, presumably someone falling on their ass. "Oh god," says Jihoon, faintly, like he himself doesn't believe it. Soonyoung knows what it feels. She's sneaked looks at Wonwoo sleeping in her room enough to know it's real. "Are you serious?"

"As serious as that time I said I was gonna drink nothing but Red Bull until I passed Calculus and totally aced it," says Soonyoung.

"Well, fuck me," says JIhoon, sounding relieved, almost. She bites her lip.

"Not pregnant, though," she continues, cheerfully. She looks at her nails. "If I am, I'm gonna strangle him."

"You sound happy, though," says Jihoon.

Soonyoung tries to purse her lips, but it's no use; she's grinning, even now. "I am," she says. "It was a long time coming, I think."

"That's an understatement," Jihoon scoffs. He's quiet, for a moment, like he's mulling over something before he finally comes to a decision. "I guess I'm asking Junhui on a date, after all."

"You'd better," says Soonyoung, and ends the call to go back to bed, where Wonwoo's waiting.

It's the best morning of her life, she thinks.

**Author's Note:**

> fem!ksy and inspiration for the look and feel are largely credited to [zipcy's touch series](http://m.grafolio.com/zipcy), please check it out ♥


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